


Happy Birthday, Baby

by EonAO3



Series: Picture Perfect [5]
Category: Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language, Romantic Fluff, Sebastian Stan - Freeform, Sebastian Stan fandom - Freeform, Sebastian Stan/Reader - Freeform, domestic life, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EonAO3/pseuds/EonAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting older isn't so bad, when you do it with Sebastian Stan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buckybarnes13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarnes13/gifts).



> For buckybarnes13 (ao3)/thedevilof-hellskitchen (tumblr) who suggested some more holiday fluff or the like. I hope this counts. (◠‿◠✿)

"[Y/n]?...[Y/n], wake up, beautiful."

You drew in a long breath through your nose, your shoulders stretching as your chest rose with air and your eyelids fluttered to open to squinting slits. A tired smile took over your lips, seeing Sebastian's grinning mouth and delighted blue eyes in front of you. Arms layered one over the other on the mattress and his chin resting atop them, he was crouched at your bedside. He pulled one arm out from under his head to push some stray hairs behind your ear as you adjusted to the sunlight pouring in the windows of your shared New York apartment.

"'Morning," he said. "Happy thir-"

"Don't," you interrupted, pausing a moment to shake your head. "Don't say it."

Sebastian chuckled, putting his arm back under his chin and still admiring you with a warm smile. "I can't tell you 'happy birthday'?" he asked.

"You can," you consented. "Let's just not say _which_ birthday."

"There's nothing wrong with being thirt-"

You reached a hand out to smoosh your fingertips against his mouth, shaking your head again and shushing him. Sebastian puckered his lips into your fingers to kiss them before he tipped his head back and out of your reach.

"Thirty-three," he finished.

You grimaced at the sound of the numbers and pulled the covers up over your head, making an unintelligible moan of unhappiness. You heard Sebastian laugh from the outside of the covers before he begged you to come out of hiding. With a petulant hum, you refused and nestled your head into your pillow. There was a tug from the other side of the blankets and the brightness of the room poured back into your eyes as the shade of the covers was gone.

"Come on, now," Sebastian encouraged. "What's wrong with thirty-three? It's a nice, balanced number. It's got a good symmetry to it, looks good forward and back."

"Stop trying to make me feel better," you grumbled, lifting your head up to look for your missing blankets. You pulled the covers back up, complaining before you disappeared into your cocoon again, "I don't want to be thirty-three."

"Don't be a brat," Sebastian playfully chided, yanking back the comforter but missing the sheet.

You clenched a fistful of the sheet protectively over your head. "Nobody cares about actors getting old," you pointed out. "Men just gray and get handsomer. It's all down hill from here for us girls."

Sebastian snorted, playing at a short tug of war with you for the bed sheet. "Oh, for fuck's sa-," he airily grumbled, interrupted by the slap of your free hand on his wrist as he was making a move for your sheet. "Hey! No hitting," he scolded.

"Was barely a tap," you mumbled, turning your face down into your pillow as you felt Sebastian let lose of the sheet.

"You gonna lay in bed all day and pout?" he asked. He snorted again, plainly seeing your head nod beneath its cover. "What about your presents?"

"Take them back," you said, dismissively waving your free hand in the air.

You felt a pair of fingertips marching up along your arm toward your shoulder. "What about cake? You don't want any cake today?" Sebastian questioned.

You swatted the fingers away blindly, still not coming out of your shelter. "I don't want any cake," you pouted, trying not to smile at the fingers starting their ascent again.

"You want me to cancel your party on Saturday?" he offered. "Tell everyone to take back their gifts because you're gonna stay thirty-two forever?"

"Yes," you nodded.

The fingers gently curled under the edge of the sheet, pulling it down carefully and stopping when Sebastian could see your eyes. "You want me to throw out breakfast?"

"You made breakfast?" you asked, the curiosity showing in the rise of an eyebrow and of your voice at the end of the question.

Sebastian nodded, reaching up to brush away the hair that your nodding under the sheet had tangled across your forehead. "I made breakfast for the birthday girl," he said, "but if you're not having a birthday today..."

He trailed off with a helpless shrug and put his arm under his chin again. Your jaw worked secretly behind the sheet, contemplating getting up for breakfast. Sebastian grinned and his eyebrows rose in anticipation of your response. You gave him a discerning squint before you pulled down your mask and balled the sheet in your fist under your chin, prepared for retreat at any moment.

"What's for breakfast?" you cautiously checked.

Sebastian's grin broke into a toothy smile as he proudly told you, "Waffles."

You gave him a suspicious look. "We don't have a waffle iron here," you reminded him.

"I bought one the other day," he explained.

You slipped the sheet back up under your nose to hide your smile. For as far back as you could remember, your mom always made you waffles for your birthday breakfast. Whether or not your birthday fell on a school day or weekend, there were always waffles. Thick, Belgian style waffles with every pocket filled with syrup.

You peeked out from your semi-hiding just long enough to ask, "You did?"

His lips pulled tight against his teeth, trying not to laugh at you, Sebastian nodded again as his hand came back up to tuck down the sheet under your chin to see your smiling face. "A double Belgian waffle maker."

You bit at your lower lip a moment. "Belgian, you say?"

Your inability to hide your happy grin only widened Sebastian's own smile and he nodded. "So you can fill each pocket with syrup," he assured you.

"You been talking to my mom about birthday waffles?" you giggled softly, pulling the corner of your pillow under your head when you inched toward the side of the bed and close to Sebastian's folded arms.

"We did talk awhile ago," he suggested, feigning disinterest with a noncommittal frown as he laid his head on his arm to mirror you. "Somebody _may_ have mentioned waffles."

Stretching out a finger to tap on his arm for his attention, you noted, in a whisper, "I love waffles."

"I know," he said, picking his head up to dot a quick kiss to your fingertip on his arm before resting his head again. "But only people having birthdays get waffles today." Sebastian's eyes searched yours. "Are you having a birthday today?"

You thought for a moment. _Damn_. He had you. You bit your lip again and nodded.

A small grin came to Sebastian. "You want cake and presents and a party with all your friends on Saturday?" he asked, a little patronizing.

"Yes," you grumbled in defeat.

"You gonna get out of bed and face thirty-three like a brave girl and eat waffles with me?" he questioned, leveling his eyes at you with a confident smirk.

"Yeah," you sighed.

Sebastian stretched forward to give you a lingering kiss before he rested back on his heels and set his chin back on his arms. "Happy birthday, baby," he sweetly smiled.

"Thank you," you smiled back.

"Come on," he said, leaning back and pushing off the side of the bed to stand. "Breakfast is getting cold."

You threw the sheet aside, swinging your feet down to the floor. Sebastian held out his arms to you and you put your hands in his. He pulled you to your feet, wrapping you up in a tight embrace and pressing a kiss into the curve of your neck. He sent you off to the bathroom with a pat on the ass as he turned to head back to the kitchen.

Bare feet padding on hardwood floors, you made your way to the kitchen. You peeked around the doorway to see Sebastian turning away from the counter, carrying a pair of plates stacked with thick, buttered waffles. He smiled as he passed you, inclining his head for you to follow him to the dining table. He set down a plate for you and you noticed the giant bouquet of roses in the center of the table. You put your nose to the flowers and took a whiff with a smile before you folded a foot beneath you and sat down. Sebastian took a chair opposite you and peered around the flowers, his brow raised expectantly and wearing a thin grin.

"That's a lotta flowers," you observed, resting your chin atop your fist. "Lemme guess. Thirty-three?"

"Precisely," he nodded, reaching out a hand to slide the vase back so he could see you.

You rolled your eyes, your chin slipping from your hand in mock boredom. "Go figure."

"You better get onboard with this birthday," he threatened, picking up his fork and pointing the prongs at you, "or I'll eat every one of your damned waffles."

You stuck out your lower lip, sulking as you grabbed the bottle of syrup. Sebastian watched you over the edge of his coffee mug, his eyes crinkled in amusement as he sipped and you meticulously poured syrup into every valley of your waffles. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he reached out to take his turn with the molasses.

"So, what do you want to do today?" he asked.

"Don't want to grow up," you mumbled, ahead of your first bite of breakfast.

Sebastian snorted quietly. "So far, so good," he grumbled.

You flipped him off with your fork-free hand, smiling sarcastically around a mouthful of waffles. He puckered a kiss on his lips to you in reply before he turned his attention back to his meal, cutting a piece for himself and asking if everything tasted alright. You hummed your approval, giving him a thumbs up with a winking eye as you nodded and chewed. Sebastian chuckled.

"Well," Sebastian began, stabbing his fork into a bite and dragging it through the pooling syrup on his plate, "I had an idea."

"S'what's that?" you managed, over another mouthful of food and shielding your face behind a raised hand in a halfhearted attempt at some decorum.

"It's something we haven't talked about for awhile," he vaguely went on, "but I think you'd like to do."

You pushed the waffles into the side of your cheek, deadpan suggesting, "Make a sex tape?"

Sebastian's fork fell from his hand, dropping a few inches down to his plate with a sharp rattle. He sputtered and choked, putting the knuckles of his fist to his mouth and slapping a hand on the table top to steady himself. He ducked and shook his head before he looked up and glared at you, his eyes and cheeks red from his near death experience.

"Jesus Chri-" he complained, coughing out a choked laugh as he finally managed to swallow his food. "Ya have to say that shit while I'm eating?"

"Sorry," you innocently shrugged.

"No," he said, taking a sip of his juice and softly pounding the center of his chest to help it down. "You're not," he assured you, clearing his throat gently before a small laugh.

"Yes, I am," you told him, trying to control your smile as you prepared another wedge of waffle on your fork. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"I thought maybe we'd go out today and get a dog," he suggested, eyes fixed on you to see your reaction.

You put down your fork, straightening up a bit in your seat and leaning into the edge of the table. "Don't play around," you cautioned him. "Are you serious?"

"I'm serious," he nodded, taking another drink of his coffee.

He was right. It was something you hadn't talked about for a while. It had been something you had been toying with since you bought your first house in LA, with its fenced backyard and a plenty of room to run. Just not since you moved in to his concrete-locked Tribeca apartment a couple of months ago. You had begrudgingly agreed that your schedules were too busy and it wouldn't be fair to the pup. He had said it was something to consider down the road when things were less chaotic for the two of you. After all, you were hopping in and out of Los Angeles for work kind of frequently lately and Sebastian was coming off the press tour for Marvel and already into his next project.

"You said it was a bad time to get a-"

"I know," he admitted, with a wince, raising his waffled fork to stop you before he went back to dabbing his food in the syrup of his plate absentmindedly. "I know. But I figure you staying here in New York has been working out and I was looking at schedules and between the two of us, one or both of us would pretty much always be here. And if I'm not, and you wanna go to LA, your house has that big, fenced in yard so, ya know..." he shrugged. "I was just thinking, I know you miss your friends and stuff back there. Moving out here was a big change and I thought maybe having a little extra company could help cheer you u-"

He didn't have time to finish his thought. You were already walking around the table. Sebastian looked up, pulled from his thoughts at his plate by the surprise of you wedging yourself between him and the table to sit across his lap. You folded your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as he laughed and slipped his arms around you waist.

You sat up, arms still wrapped behind his neck and a wide smile highlighting a hopeful expression. "You mean it? You want to get a dog?" you double checked.

Sebastian nodded with a shrug that threw caution to the wind. "Why not?" he declared. "We could do it. It'd be fun."

"We're getting a dog?" you gushed, kissing his cheek on your way down for another hug.

"We're getting a dog," he confirmed, with a laugh. "Happy birthday, baby."


End file.
